Remember me

Following the disastrous dinner at the Possible household, Shego returned home feeling utterly shattered. From the moment she climbed into her hovercraft to the second she stepped into her apartment, silent tears streamed down her face. Her chest tightened with suffocating pain, her mind trapped in a relentless cycle of past wounds resurfacing. Once, Kim had been the one to help her navigate those dark corridors of her past, guiding her toward something lighter. Now, with just a few careless words, she had ripped those wounds open again.

—I don’t trust you.

The phrase echoed in Shego’s mind like a cruel refrain. Did Kim have any idea how much those words had cut her? Probably not—not now, when they felt like strangers all over again. How could Kim possibly understand that Shego had spent most of her life feeling unwanted, cast aside? That the lack of trust and affection in her past had carved wounds so deep they had shaped her into the very villain Kim still seemed to believe she was?

Standing beneath the freezing spray of her shower, Shego willed the icy water to wash away the pain, to drown out the memories clawing at her consciousness. But it was futile. Her body naturally radiated heat, and no amount of cold could dull the ache left by the one person she had ever let in completely.

Now curled up on her couch, arms wrapped tightly around her knees, she rocked herself slightly in another useless attempt at comfort. Images flashed through her mind—her parents' deaths, her abusive uncles, her early years as a villain, and now Kim’s accident, the look of distrust in her eyes, the words that had shattered her all over again. This turmoil wasn’t unfamiliar, but since becoming Kim’s partner, Shego had never faced it alone. Kim had always been there, whispering reassurances, holding her close until the storm passed. But now, that warmth was gone. And the more Shego fought to reclaim it, the more it seemed to slip away.

Her blurred gaze landed on the guitar and piano by the window. Wiping her face, she stood and crossed the room with slow, deliberate steps. Music had once been her escape, but for years, she had distanced herself from it, associating it with a past she wanted to forget. Kim had changed that. Kim had helped her rediscover her love for music, had made it safe again. And now, it was the only outlet she had left.

Her fingers traced over the guitar strings, searching for something—anything—that could soothe the chaos inside her. As she played, the tight knot in her chest loosened slightly, and the storm in her mind quieted just enough for her to breathe. A melody formed, unbidden, and with it, the words came. She retreated to her home studio, guitar in hand, and surrendered herself to the music.

-

She knows me too well

The good and the bad 

She knows what calms me

And what makes me explode

When I ask my friends If we should be together

They say we should leave it for another life

Because you tear me apart But I still love you 

Staying in your arms feels like Running with scissors

Because you hurt me But I keep holding on 

Waiting here feels like Running with scissors

Running with scissors

Night blurred into morning, but Shego barely noticed, losing herself in the music, pouring her pain into every chord, every lyric.

-

She woke up slumped over her desk, momentarily disoriented. As her mind cleared, reality came crashing back—Kim’s words, the ache in her chest, the song she had spent the night crafting. She inhaled shakily before saving her work and dragging herself to the kitchen.

Sitting at the breakfast bar, she forced herself to eat, but each bite tasted like nothing. She chewed absently, her mind too cluttered to focus on anything but the weight pressing against her ribs. Hours passed, and she remained there, her untouched plate a testament to her growing detachment. She sighed—probably for the hundredth time that morning—before finally forcing herself to move. Grabbing her laptop, she settled onto the couch and began reviewing the security footage from her investigation at Drakken’s hideouts, saving the recordings from the lair where the accident had occurred for last.

Nothing. Three months’ worth of footage showed nothing out of the ordinary—Drakken pacing in his lab, guards slacking off, herself conducting patrols, and even a few encounters with Kim. She lingered on those clips, watching Kim move, remembering what had been happening in their lives outside of those battles. A sad smile ghosted across her lips. But after hours of combing through the footage with nothing to show for it, she shut the laptop with a frustrated sigh.

If things were normal—if things were the way they were supposed to be—she would be calling Kim right now. She would tell her about her day, listen to her stories, maybe even tease her a little. But that wasn’t an option anymore. So she settled for the next best thing: calling the twins. It was an excuse to talk about the security system, a practical reason to call them. But deep down, she knew the real reason—just to feel close to Kim, even indirectly.

Shego scowled at herself as she dialed Tim’s number. She felt pathetic. And maybe a little masochistic. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

—Shego?— Tim’s voice carried his surprise clearly.

—Why do you sound so shocked, twerp?

—We thought after last night, you’d disappear for a while.

—Well, the security still needs to be finished, doesn’t it? You two are leaving soon, and the sooner we get this done, the better. Or am I wrong?

—No, you’re right… Uh, so do you want to come over now and go over everything?

—Yeah, that’s why I called—to see if you were free.

—We are. Kim’s home.

—That’s not what I asked.

—But it’s what you wanted to know.

Shego rolled her eyes. It was irritating how well the twins could read her now. —Whatever. The system is fully set up, right? We just need to test it?

—Yep.

—Good. Activate everything now. We’re running a simulation. I’ll act as the villain trying to break in.

—Oooh, so original.

—Shut up,— she muttered before hanging up.

-

Dressed in her signature green-and-black suit, Shego guided her hovercraft toward the Possible residence. Hovering above the house, she initiated a preliminary scan, ensuring the security system was blocking all internal heat signatures, sound leaks, and electromagnetic traces. Satisfied with the results, she turned her attention to the house itself, noting the presence of pressure-sensitive traps on the roof. Leaving her hovercraft floating above, she leaped onto the rooftop with feline grace.

She meticulously analyzed the traps, making mental notes for potential improvements. Moving to the balconies, she identified hidden surveillance cameras at every entry point. She smirked and offered a playful wave to each lens before examining the laser grid protecting the windows. After checking the door locks, she moved to the yard, garden, and perimeter, identifying potential vulnerabilities.

She couldn’t ignore the irony—she had done this before, many times. But back then, she had been looking for weaknesses to exploit, not testing defenses. That realization made her chuckle dryly.

Finally, she turned her attention to the chimney. It intrigued her; she couldn’t immediately tell how the twins had secured it. And that alone made it the perfect challenge.

With a smirk, she crouched low, ready to make her move.

She slid effortlessly down the brick interior of the chimney, her keen senses alert for any hidden mechanisms or traps. Yet, as she landed soundlessly, nothing happened. The room remained eerily silent, and she found herself in the middle of the darkened living room, scanning her surroundings for anything suspicious. Not sensing any immediate threats, she ventured further, moving through the dining area and into the kitchen, her every movement controlled, measured. Still, nothing.

Ascending the staircase, her sharp eyes caught the delicate weave of a laser grid midway up. She paused, analyzing its pattern before twisting and weaving her way through with precision, each movement a testament to her agility and years of experience. By the time she reached the top, she was impressed—most intruders wouldn’t have stood a chance. But she made a mental note to discuss the ease of disabling them with the twins.

The second floor presented a new challenge. Every door was locked. Approaching the twins' room first, she tested the doorknob and immediately felt a jolt of electricity course through her hand. Instinctively, she withdrew, though the shock was nothing more than a mild inconvenience to her, thanks to her plasma’s conductivity. A grim smirk played on her lips—if it weren’t for her unique abilities, that voltage would have incapacitated anyone else. It reminded her, fleetingly, of the moment Kim had slammed her into a tower, a memory that she quickly pushed aside.

Checking each door, she confirmed that they were all outfitted with the same security. Yet, despite all the defenses she had encountered, something felt off—why had no countermeasures activated? Why had she faced no resistance?

Her gaze landed on the attic hatch leading to Kim’s room. Approaching cautiously, she placed a hand against the handle and felt a stronger current running through it, enough that even she found it mildly uncomfortable. Raising a brow, she let out a breath before summoning her plasma. Channeling the energy into her palm, she pressed it firmly against the lock, disrupting the electrical flow just long enough to grant her access.

Alright. This definitely needed to be discussed with the twins.

The room was still, empty. She pushed the hatch open fully and climbed inside, scanning her surroundings. Just as she took her first full step inside, two things happened simultaneously—she sensed an electric field buzzing ominously in front of her, and before she could react, a familiar presence struck from behind.

Kim tackled her with full force, nearly sending her straight into the high-voltage trap. But Shego’s reflexes were sharper. Planting her feet, she twisted mid-motion, barely avoiding the deadly surge of electricity. Before she could regain her footing, Kim’s arms wrapped around her neck in a tight chokehold.

—What are you doing here?!— Kim’s voice was sharp, accusing, her grip tightening around Shego’s throat.

—Relax, Princess,— Shego rasped, her tone firm yet calm. The hold was strong, but not enough to prevent her from speaking—Kim still hadn’t regained her full strength.

—I knew you were up to something. Trying to gain my family’s trust just so you could strike when they least expect it?— Kim’s hold tightened further, exerting all the strength she could muster. Yet, Shego remained unshaken.

—Kim, listen to me,— Shego whispered, her voice softer now. —I’m not attacking anyone. This isn’t some kind of plan. I’m working with your brothers to improve security.

Kim hesitated for a split second, and that was all it took for Shego to free herself. As Kim lost her grip, she stumbled backward, falling onto the floor. Shego tensed, instinctively reaching out, worried that Kim might hurt herself, especially with the unseen electric field just a step away.

—I don’t want to fight you, Kim.

—Oh yeah? Then what do you want?— Kim snapped, pushing herself up into a defensive stance.

—Nothing. Just calm down—you could get hurt.

—The only one getting hurt here is you!— Kim launched forward, throwing a kick toward Shego, but the older woman blocked it effortlessly. Kim’s movements were fast but lacked their usual force—she still hadn’t fully recovered.

—Kim, stop—there’s an electric field right—

Ignoring the warning, Kim swung again. Shego dodged, closing the distance between them. Kim took the opportunity to throw a punch, but Shego caught her wrist mid-swing, pulling her in before wrapping her arms around her in a firm embrace.

Kim froze.

—Calm down,— Shego murmured near her ear, inhaling the familiar scent of her hair, savoring the warmth of holding her close after so long.

Kim stiffened, snapping out of her brief moment of shock. She struggled against Shego’s hold, but the woman’s grip only tightened.

—Let go of me!— Kim demanded, thrashing harder.

—Not until you calm down. I don’t want you getting hurt,— Shego said, her voice low, almost pleading.

—Kim, it’s true,— came Jim’s voice from the doorway.

—Shego was just testing the security measures we set up,— Tim added.

—Tweebs! How long have you two been standing there? Why didn’t you help?!

—For a while,— Tim admitted.

—But we didn’t want to interrupt your moment,— Jim teased.

—What moment?!— Kim’s voice shot up indignantly as she redoubled her efforts to break free. Shego, a little reluctantly, released her hold and took a step back, meeting Kim’s furious gaze.

—If you were just checking security, why did you come into my room?

—You’re the primary target for any real threat to this house,— Shego explained evenly.

—And?

—And I take my job of protecting you seriously. I was treating this like an actual infiltration scenario while evaluating every security measure.

Kim turned to the twins with an exasperated look. —Why didn’t you tell me you were running a simulation?—

—To make it more realistic,— they said in unison, grinning.

—Just get out of my room. Now.

With a sigh, Shego and the twins left without protest.

-

They sat in silence for a few minutes in the living room, the twins exchanging glances while Shego stared at a fixed point in space, unmoving.

—Uh… Shego?— Jim ventured cautiously.

—You okay?— Tim followed up when Shego finally looked at them.

Shego exhaled, a slow, deep breath. Despite everything, she felt… content. Maybe she should be frustrated with the twins for not warning Kim, for constantly creating misunderstandings. But on the other hand, it had led to something she hadn’t expected—holding Kim, even if just for a fleeting moment.

—Yeah,— she said at last. —I’m good.

Shrugging, the twins proceeded to explain the security measures in detail, starting with the external defenses. Shego questioned the lack of protection around the chimney, to which they clarified that a hidden heat sensor was embedded in the bricks, activating a second-degree burn-inducing trap. However, since Shego’s heat resistance rendered it ineffective, she suggested increasing the temperature. Moving on to internal security, they discussed the laser grid on the staircase, which could either cause severe injuries or, if deactivated externally, trigger a sticky trap. Shego also pointed out the need for countermeasures against non-human intruders like robots, which the twins acknowledged as a valid oversight. Regarding the individual rooms, the doors were equipped with high-voltage electric locks, strong enough to immobilize most threats, though Shego recommended increasing the voltage for added protection.

The twins admitted that their time had been split between university projects and their research on restoring Kim’s memory, so while they planned additional automated defenses, they were behind schedule. Their current strategy relied on early detection—if an intruder was identified before breaching the property, all occupants were to retreat to the basement, which was reinforced to withstand even a nuclear attack for up to three months. Should an attacker manage to infiltrate the house, the existing measures would delay them long enough for reinforcements to arrive. Satisfied but expecting more from the tech-savvy duo, Shego pressed for a timeline on additional defenses, learning they would be ready in two to three weeks. Before leaving, she ensured they would finalize the discussed improvements before their departure the next day and brief the family on how to activate and deactivate the system. As she stood to leave, the twins sheepishly apologized for unintentionally causing more tension with Kim. With a smirk, Shego dismissed it, knowing the situation was far from over.

-

Over the next two days, Shego remained deeply immersed in her investigation, combing through every piece of footage she had gathered from Drakken’s lair. She meticulously reviewed months of recordings, with the exception of the day of the explosion—an avoidance she knew stemmed from her reluctance to relive the event that had upended her life. Yet, despite hours of scrutiny, she found nothing unusual. Frustrated but undeterred, she redirected her efforts to searching the deeper corners of the internet, resuming where she had previously left off.

By the second day, the usually pristine state of her apartment had deteriorated into a chaotic mess—clothes strewn across the floor, papers scattered on every available surface, empty wrappers and half-finished meals abandoned in the living room and kitchen. The exhaustion weighed heavily on her, compounded by the sleepless nights she had accumulated throughout the week. Her vision blurred as she attempted to focus on old online discussions between Killigan and Fiske from two months prior, but the words swam before her eyes, their meaning slipping through her grasp. Recognizing her diminishing ability to concentrate, she surrendered to sleep almost instantly.

Hours later, she woke disoriented, groggily attempting to will herself back into slumber, desperate to reclaim the dream she had just lost. It had been about Kim—that much she knew—but the details had already begun to fade, leaving behind only a hollow ache in her chest. With a frustrated sigh, she turned her gaze to the window, where the sun was already beginning its descent. Stretching, she sat up, still irritated by the abrupt end to what had been, she was certain, a rare moment of happiness. The weight of loneliness pressed against her chest, an all-too-familiar sensation that burned behind her eyes.

Enough.

Pushing past the melancholy that threatened to consume her, Shego forced herself into action. She methodically cleaned the mess she had let accumulate, took a long, steadying shower, and, with renewed determination, grabbed her motorcycle keys. It was time to stop running in circles. If she truly wanted things to change, she needed to face them head-on. Without hesitation, she set off toward the Possible household.